


Man Time

by JoansGlove



Series: Boys Will Be Boys [1]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vera gets more than she bargains for when she conducts 'unauthorised surveillance' at Fletch's ....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man Time

**Author's Note:**

> This little gem was inspired by @iqueenbealr
> 
> Apologies if any reader suffers lasting damage! ;-P

Vera could hear voices coming from the open lounge window as she walked up Fletch’s front path.  
Standing on tiptoe she peered through the open casement and spied Fletch and Derek Channing sprawled on the sofa, beers in hand.  
On the TV screen an artificial blonde sucked on a massive pink penis, her lipstick smeared along the veined shaft, her dull eyes staring vacantly out at her audience.

Derek leaned forward and put his beer down on the low coffee table, his hand landing on Fletch’s thigh as he settled back in his seat.  
“You know, mate, I’ve NEVER had a good gobbie from a woman.” Channing looked at Fletch, coloured light from the TV bouncing off his shaved skull.  
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Replied Fletch. “I must have been to every knocking shop in the Pacific arena but nothing beats a blow job from someone with a real knowledge of what a man wants.” He covered Channing’s soft hand with his own and guided towards his crotch.

Vera stared open mouthed.

Fletch encouraged the older man to squeeze an rub the growing bulge in his jeans, leaning in for a kiss; his own hand travelling up Derek’s muscled arm to cup his stubbly neck. There was nothing soft or delicate about their kiss, it was if they were trying to devour each other.  
Breaking their clinch Channing released Fletch's cock from the confines of his clothing. It stood stiff and proud as he milked its moderate length before pulling back the foreskin and taking the shiny bell-end between his lips, swallowing it all down and massaging Fletch’s balls to the beat of the porno’s soundtrack.  
Fletch relaxed back into the sofa, obviously enjoying Derek’s technique. His fingers strayed to his nipples, tweaking them through his shirt before it was pulled off and flung across the room. His hand slipped down the back of Derek’s shorts and grabbed his arse.

Vera could not believe what she was witnessing. She felt a familiar twinge in her cunt and realised that she was turned on; she checked to make sure no-one was watching and made her way round the side of the house to a less visible vantage point.  
By the time she had established her new observation post Fletch and Channing were naked. Their hairy, muscled bodies rolled together across the couch and onto the rug; dicks slapping together, against thighs, hands grabbing tits and buttocks, fingers dipping between fuzzy cheeks to tease tenders arseholes; all the time exchanging sloppy wet kisses.

Vera generally blushed whenever she saw two men kissing. It wasn’t that she thought it was wrong but she always felt uncomfortable. Her face was burning at the spectacle before her.  
Her temperature rose as Channing forced Fletch’s face between his thighs; his chubby cock twitched and jerked as it scrubbed against his crew-cut and stubbled cheek before thrusting deep into Fletch's open mouth. Fletch sucked on it like a pro!  
Vera was stunned! She never, NEVER thought that Matthew Fletcher, a man who bordered on the positively homophobic, would ever fuck another man. Nor Channing for that matter! 

A wicked thought entered her mind and she reached for her phone, thankful for its superlative camera. She could just imagine Joan’s face when she saw this little gem; she was in little doubt that it would be a major feather in her cap and a handy little bargaining tool to boot.  
Her hand crept back inside her jacket as Channing began to pull on his nipples; she felt her own through her thin shirt, rock hard and incredibly sensitive. The merest touch fired up her clit, causing her breath to catch in her throat. 

Fletch’s hand was moving between Channing’s legs – she could see his ball-sack jostling as Fletch worked his finger into Derek’s arsehole.  
Vera had a quick look round, pocketed the phone and and rammed her hand down the front of her jeans, dipping her fingers into her satiny wetness and smearing it over her bulging clit. Her cunt clenched and she involuntarily shut her eyes as a sigh escaped her lips. The sensation was delicious and her whole body began to tingle as her busy fingers repeatedly dabbled in her gushing slit, stimulating the nerves and weakening her knees.  
When she looked back into the room Derek was face down on the couch with Fletch crouching over him, his cock bouncing as he fingered the man beneath him and leant forward to bite the back of his thick neck. Before she knew it, Fletch was easing his average sized cock into Channing’s hole. Their grunts were audible outside, ramping up Vera’s excitement.  
Going slowly at first, Fletch established a steady rhythm – yeah, thought Vera, steady and BORING! He just had no imagination! She regarded the back of his head as he turned it in time to catch the money shot on the screen.  
Cum splashed across the blonde’s face as she gamely tried to keep it out of her eyes. Vera felt sorry for her, semen was awful stuff!

The two men slid partially off the sofa and Fletch reached round to grab Channing’s softening dick in his meaty paw. He worked at the tumescent shaft, squeezing and yanking the mobile skin that covered the rod of hot meat.  
As their thrusting entered the final climactic stages their bodies began to glisten with sweat, beads rolling off their shaven heads onto the creaking furniture. Slapping sounds joined their moans as Derek's arse was battered by Fletch going a mile a minute.

Despite the nature of the viewing material Vera was approaching her own sweet moment. She gripped her nipple tighter, twisting and pulling at it in time to the actions of her nimble fingers buried in her pants. She had to grip the rough wall as her cunt suddenly tightened, twisting round to push her arse hard against the brickwork as her legs began to shake. The sound of the two men was reaching fever pitch, driving her to the very brink; taking a deep breath Vera imagined Joan fucking her like that and came, bent double; her face screwed into a mask of agonised ecstasy as she tried to silence her moans.  
Unbelievably, Fletch and Channing were still going at it! Derek was all but hanging off the sofa as Fletch wrapped his sweating body round him, humping for all he was worth. Suddenly Channing stiffened and let out a groan of “Maaaaate…..!” A spurt of cum gushed the length of his body and splashed across the back of the sofa. He twitched and jerked as Fletch shot his load deep into his arse, braying like a donkey into Channing’s ear as his hairy butt-cheeks clenched and relaxed, clenched and relaxed.

Deciding that it was an ideal time to get what she had originally come for Vera stealthily made her way back to the front to the house. Smoothing her hair down and giving her fingers a surreptitious sniff she knocked on the front door, hammering louder when there was no answer. Fletch eventually appeared at the door, a scowl on his sweaty face.  
“What do you want, Vera?”  
“Overtime forms. You forgot to sign them.” She waved a couple of pages and a pen at him.  
Bad temperedly he signed and thrust the forms back towards her.  
“Why thank you, Mr Fletcher.” Vera gave him a bright smile. “No point in busting your balls if you don’t get paid, eh? You know what a tight-arse Channing is!” With that she gave him a conspiratorial wink and strode back to her car, breaking out into a broad grin as she felt her phone vibrate in her breast pocket.


End file.
